


True Strength

by RedfieldandNivans



Series: Dog Tags [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: A bit of Piers angst, A week with the folks, C-Virus Recovery, C-Virus Side Effects, Chris sets him straight, Cuteness overload, M/M, Piers Death Fix, Play fighting in a field, Sexy Time, Stand Alone One-Shot, The only NivanFIELD fic you'll ever need, fireflies!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:51:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1882290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedfieldandNivans/pseuds/RedfieldandNivans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris and Piers having some fun in a field under the stars? Yes please.</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Strength

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The Nivanfield Fandom](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=The+Nivanfield+Fandom).



> Theme Song to Fic: “True Strength” by John Dreamer (instrumental)  
> \---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sWZwTOSgLZI

“Thanks for coming with me.”

“I’m glad you asked me to join you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone else wanting to keep an eye on me out here _and_ endure my parents for a whole week.” There was a twinge of bitterness in the way he alluded to being under surveillance. Chris picked up on it and stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Piers, I’m here because I want to be. Not because I’m watching you.”

Piers looked down at the hand at his chest. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, “I guess it just feels that way at times. Like I’m on a leash. Even out here I feel like the higher ups are just waiting for me to make a mistake.” The thought of being discharged was crushing and Piers’ tone reflected it even if he hadn’t meant for it to. “I feel like if I mess up even a little I’ll never see active duty again.”

Chris recognized his partner’s pain. The B.S.A.A. was everything to the ace sniper. Chris had felt it from the first mission he and the young Special Ops transfer had been assigned together. He saw it in the marksman’s actions on and off the field; heard it in the way he spoke and commanded the other men in their team. Hell, the Lieutenant had even led the new Alpha Team solo for six months while searching for his missing Captain. If the B.S.A.A.’s higher ups didn’t see the dedication this kid brought to the fight, Chris would remind them.

“You’re recovering much faster than anyone expected, Piers. You’ll get through this like everything else,” he sounded so confident in his own words Piers couldn’t find any room to disagree, even though the Captain made no promises regarding his return to fieldwork. Piers nodded in acceptance and waited for him to continue leading them down the dirt trail. They were losing the evening light fast and Piers wanted to get to their destination before they couldn’t see where they were going.

“So don’t be so hard on yourself,” Chris added looking back and taking the lead naturally even though he’d never been down the forest path before.

Even as he reassured his partner and dished out advice, the older soldier couldn’t help but think of his own fear and failures as he continued forward. As commanding officer, he’d screwed up big time on their last two missions together; He’d screwed up more so in the last year than ever in his time of service. He’d failed his team in the most irreversible way; Cost them their lives in a losing battle against an unstoppable string of horrific monsters and life-destroying viruses. His men could have been saved, he knew. That’s what hurt the most. Nearly all of his second team could have gone home to their families- if only he had stayed _focused_ …God, how was he ever going to make up for their loss?

The look of trauma on Mrs. Rose’s face when she saw the Captain on her doorstep instead of her husband haunted him still. Chris clenched his jaw at the painful memory, feeling the familiar sting in his throat. The thorns of guilt and regret cut him as sharply now as they had months ago.

“Chris?” Piers was on his heels, sensing his silent distress. It was easy to forget how attentive the sniper was.

“Yeah,” he didn’t bother looking back because the younger man was falling in step beside him now as they reached the ridge between two of the property’s largest trees.

“Look.”

Chris followed Piers’ gaze to the scene before them. The trail they were following dropped sharply downward and disappeared into a vast grassy landscape bordered by some of the tallest, fullest trees in the area. Tall grasses swayed in the night breeze and seemed to come alive with millions of tiny blinking green lights. Fireflies, Chris realized. They were everywhere, buzzing about silently on an invisible current; tiny, erratic shooting stars in a reflective sky of foliage.

Overhead the real sky loomed, immense and deep blue and lit up with scores of stars in clusters brighter and clearer than Chris had ever remembered seeing. Nearer the horizon a moving brushstroke of jagged purples, yellows and emerald green danced across the starscape like living paint on the world’s largest canvas.

It was breathtaking.

“The northern lights,” Piers announced proudly.

“It’s _beautiful_ ,” there was awe in Chris’ usually steady voice and Piers couldn’t help but watch him witness the light show with a similar captivation. Sure, Chris had probably seen the Aurora Borealis before many times, but the marksman guessed he’d never seen it from this far out in the bush. Not from the mesmerized look reflected on his Captain’s face as he took in the thousands of visible constellations above them. With no light pollution from any nearby city to dim the effect, the polar lightshow was more stunning than any high definition television could hope to display.

“You should see it from the water.”

Chris felt his partner watching him. He pulled back from his star-gazing, suddenly feeling the intensity of the marksman’s familiar hazel eyes, “What?”

Piers fought back an ardent smile, “You.”

That boyish smile had settled on him and Chris felt his core heat up under it’s focus, “What about me?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ve never seen you look at something with so much fascination.”

Thank God it was dark because Chris was pretty sure his cheeks were an uncomfortable shade of red now for reasons he didn’t quite understand. “I guess my secret’s out,” he laughed, looking away to the sea of fireflies, “I don’t get out much. At least not on my time off.”

Piers’ focus turned back to the sky, letting Chris off the hook. That smile stayed on his lips though. “I used to watch the stars out here as a kid. Sometimes I’d fall asleep out in the field, and you’d better believe mom had a conniption when I stumbled home at two in the morning with wet grass stains and bugs in my hair.”

“Sounds fun,” Chris found himself imagining what it would have been like growing up out here. Claire would have loved to live on a hobby ranch like this with horses. She was a city girl now having spent most of her early life following her big brother to whatever base he happened to be posted near. He wondered what her answer would have been if he had asked her where she wanted to go after he had quit the air force. She had lived with him until university without reservation and eventually decided to fight her own war through human rights efforts as a member of Terra Save. But was it what she really wanted for herself back then? Chris honestly didn’t know.

“Can I ask you a question?” Piers’ soft voice broke through his thoughts again.

“Shoot.”

“You think you can keep up?” The look on the younger soldier’s face was serious; For all of two seconds. Then the spirit of challenge sparked in his eyes and his lips pulled up in a playful grin that left Chris fumbling to grasp the meaning behind.

Then he was gone. Piers jumped off the ridge and let the momentum carry him down the dirt hill toward the field of fireflies. Responding to the challenge a heartbeat later, Chris leapt off the ridge and followed his partner’s path down the slope. The instant his feet hit level ground he was running full out to catch up to the younger man.

It was hard not to smile as he chased him. It felt really good to sprint again. Having been removed from active duty for the better part of three months now, the pair’s normally strict physical routine had been reduced to a few hours of opportunistic gym time per week at the facility; Hardly enough to keep either of them at peak health. The lack of steady activity had the field captain’s usual energetic spirit growing restless and he was more than happy to chase his fellow soldier through a field or two.

Chris embraced the cool night air caressing his face as he ran, the sinking of his boots into the soft ground, the sweet burn of fresh oxygen in his lungs and the familiar straining of his thighs and calves as he sprinted; The twinge of adrenaline that resulted had him on an athlete’s high in no time. Piers must have felt it too, because he left a trail of spirited laughter for Chris to follow.

The grass they now ran through looked a lot shorter from up on the ridge, Chris realized as he followed Piers into the sea of thin chest high leaves; He had to slow his pace, the grass was so thick.

Piers, on the other hand had already disappeared into the grass, stirring up a tidal wave of bugs in his wake. The tiny green dots flitted angrily about, making the air come alive around them. What a sight to see: two grown men- soldiers of war- running for the fun of it through a field of fireflies.

“If you look up, they look like stars!” Piers called breathlessly from somewhere up ahead. He was right. Chris dodged a large rock in the middle of his path and stole a glance upward to witness the bravest of the green specks whirling against the night sky like drunken comets.

The older soldier slowed to a jog when he realized Piers was no longer making sounds for him to follow.

The marksman was an ace scout sniper after all. Falling silent and disappearing from view was what he did for a living. That particular skill had earned him a name for himself and kept him alive long before his time with the B.S.A.A..

Piers had fallen off the radar quickly and left him to comb through the grass to locate his last position. Chris had to admire the marksman’s ability to become invisible. It was an odd feeling, but Chris felt like a trainee during a field exercise all over again, being lured to his ‘death’ by his instructors through the use of any underhanded tactic the enemy might think to throw at him.

He had no idea if Piers was doing it on purpose, but his partner’s game reminded him of his early days in the force.

Well if Piers wanted to play, Chris would play with him.

Falling silent as well, Chris ducked below grass level and waited for any sound that might give away Piers’ position. When his partner gave him nothing to go by he pressed forward through the grass rolling his steps from heel to toe as he did so to hide his heavy footfalls. His eyes scanned for any parted foliage that might give away the sniper’s trail. There were no trees nearby for his partner to take advantage of and as far as Chris could tell the terrain was all varying lengths of grass with the odd rock and boulder scattered randomly throughout. Piers had another advantage: He’d grown up in this field. He probably had every dip and hill memorized. It would be too easy to twist an ankle in here, Chris thought grimly.

There was a freshly parted pathway to his right and Chris circled around it slow and low, in an effort to approach Piers from a different angle and hopefully catch him off guard. The thrill of stalking a waiting enemy brought with it it’s own share of adrenaline. He knew Piers was feeling the same thrill: The thrill of the game.

A furious fluttering rose suddenly from a few feet away and Chris braced himself, every nerve on edge and ready for an attack. A bird – likely a partridge – startled by Chris’ presence, took to the air in fright and disappeared into the distance. His position given away, Chris froze and listened. Piers could have easily taken advantage of the distraction…had he been close enough to do so.

Grateful for the lucky hint, Chris continued his stealthy perimeter of the trail he’d located and ignored the angry buzzing of the fireflies he was disturbing.

The breeze picked up around him now, making it difficult to determine what grasses were swaying in the wind and which ones were shifting because of his partner’s movements. He knew Piers could sit in wait for hours, but Chris guessed he wouldn’t keep up this game for that long. Just a hunch. No, Piers had a plan and an advantage over him in this terrain. Chris liked to think he knew his partner on and off the field, but then again Piers knew him pretty well too. Being predictable was not something Chris wanted to entertain the thought of but if there was one person besides Jill Valentine who knew him well enough to anticipate his moves, it was Nivans.

Something looked out of place in the grass. He made his way towards it as silently as possible and hesitated just short of reaching the item. At first he thought it was Piers on the ground in the darkness and his heart jumped. A closer inspection had Chris picking up the younger man’s grey hooded sweatshirt from the dirt in confusion. Why would he--? OH.

Recognizing the trap a millisecond too late, Chris could only react to the feeling of a muscled forearm pulling him into a rear naked choke. _Damn, that was stupid..!_ Piers had a good grip on him too. Instinct and years of combat training had Chris stepping around his attacker’s leg in an attempt to send him off balance, but the sniper anticipated the defensive move and made sure his feet were out of the way. Frustrated and impressed at the same time, Chris noted the weaker arm locking the back of his head in place and gripped it by the wrist with one hand and by the elbow with the other. Lifting the elbow upward with strong fingers, the older soldier had Piers’ off his throat and twisted over by the wrist until the younger man was facing the dirt on one knee.

“I had you!” Piers laughed through the pain.

“Bullshit, you had me,” but Chris couldn’t stay serious in the face of that laughter. He released him when he was satisfied the Lieutenant had learned his lesson.

Big mistake.

Piers attacked him again as soon as he was free with a sharp punch to the ribs that had Chris doubling over. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as it could have if Piers wasn’t playing around, but damn if those knuckles hadn’t hit the right bundle of nerves….

The Lieutenant didn’t wait for him to recover; he hit him again while he was down, this time with a knee to the side of the head that had Chris stumbling and hearing tiny bells in one ear.

The surprise attack didn’t keep the older man down for long, however. The Captain growled at his partner’s audacity and threw a punch of his own. Lucky for Piers it didn’t connect. The smaller man dodged and avoided what could have resulted in a mild concussion by a hair’s width. The sniper’s mouth formed an excited ‘o’ at the near hit and he assumed a ready stance with a little too much enthusiasm for Chris’ liking. It was clear he had been itching to let loose. Now he waited for whatever else his Captain might throw his way.

“Smart ass.”

Piers smirked and egged him on with a sassy tilt of his head as though to say, _bring it on, old man._

You didn’t challenge Chris Redfield unless you were prepared to take some damage. Piers knew this going into the game. The adrenaline in his veins kept him alert, but he had to ignore the familiar buildup of bioelectricity beginning to pool deep in his infected arm. Beneath the bandages his skin tingled eagerly, but the virus responding to combat was a hindrance and Piers suppressed it. It’d been too long since he’d had a chance to spar man to man. And the dangerous look in Chris’ eyes had him holding up his fists in restless expectation.

Chris didn’t disappoint; Piers actually found himself forced to take a defensive stance against the relentless array of heavy punches and kicks aimed in his direction. A few kicks landed a little hard on his right side, but Piers shrugged it off.

I _will_ get through this, he reminded himself, reflecting back on Chris’ words from earlier. And with Chris to help him, he would get better at what he did. Even if it meant he had to take more time off the clock. He’d rather stay a temporary civilian, have his ass kicked on the training ground, and be stuck with a thousand experimental vaccination needles until he was cured than try his hand in the field and risk his career before he was ready to go back out there.

Almost equally matched in every aspect, Captain and Lieutenant sparred for several minutes, blocking, dodging, and parrying each other’s strikes before either actually landed a solid hit. When Piers caught him in the nose with a well-placed jab that slipped through his defenses, Chris pulled back from the fight wincing.

“Shit,” Piers apologized dropping his guard, “Are y--”

The Lieutenant didn’t get to finish that sentence. He was too busy losing the air in his lungs to one of Chris’ trademark full-body takedowns. Both men hit the dirt hard. Piers did so on his back and grunted in pain at the impact of Chris’ sizeable body slamming him down onto some sharp rocks hidden beneath the grass. _Oowww…._

Chris released his hold on the younger man’s midsection once he was sure the sniper was down for the count. His nose stung like a bitch and he let out a winded laugh at the sound of Piers’ groaning beneath him. Rising to the other’s eye level, Chris lingered over him in a half pushup to check his status. If the younger man started up again, heaven help him.

The sniper was not moving for a while. His face told Chris he was in a bit of pain himself and he lay flat out in the grass and dirt as if he’d tossed in the towel for now. Smart kid.

“Nice bleed,” he panted, nodding to the tell-tale liquid making an appearance from Chris’ nose.

A speculative swipe with the back of his hand revealed a small dribble of blood. Nothing major. Piers snickered. Chris frowned down at him, “Lucky hit.”

“A _few_ lucky hits.” Piers corrected.

“Maybe I’m going easy on you.”

That earned him a disbelieving snort, “I don’t think you know how.”

It wasn’t meant to sound so evocative. But there it was just the same. An almost tangible new feeling lingered in the air now and both men felt it. _Suggestion_.

Piers became suddenly less aware of the rocks digging into him and more aware of the fact that Chris was still on top of him. The Captain hadn’t made a move to get up. Piers wasn’t sure he wanted him to.

Chris, on the other hand, had become acutely aware that Piers wasn’t wearing his sweatshirt. The marksman lay bare-chested and panting beneath him and Chris wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t he letting him up? Why wasn’t Piers doing anything about it?

“Chris…?”

“What.”

There was a time when both men would have backed away from this scenario. But at this moment in time their faces began to linger closer as if pulled by opposing magnetic charges. The soldiers lay there in the flattened grass, surrounded by fireflies and instead of standing up to brush off the heat of the moment, their eyes searched each other for silent permission with lips parted and anxious for contact. Though neither would admit so out loud, they both had been craving an encounter like this since that time in the facility after hours....

Piers was still breathing hard; this time for an entirely new reason. Chris might not have noticed yet, but his knee was positioned very close to the Lieutenant’s crotch and Piers wasn’t entirely sure he wanted the man above him to feel just how hot he was for him right now. How should you go about telling someone to move his leg from the proximity of your soon-to-be-hardon? How would that play out, exactly? Piers couldn’t bring himself to say anything, so he shifted upward a bit in the dirt and prayed Chris wouldn’t take it as a sign to get up. 

Chris seemed to realize what they were doing when Piers shifted beneath him and he began to back up off of him.

Letting impulse take over, Piers grasped at his shirt and tugged the older man back into position above him. Chris hesitated, heart thudding heavy in his chest as his breath mixed with the younger’s. What were they doing?

Piers closed the gap between them, lifting his head to take Chris’ lips tentatively with his own. His heart skipped when Chris leaned down into the kiss willingly. This time, unlike their last encounter within the confines of the facility, they weren’t likely to be walked in on. The privacy and darkness around them emboldened the marksman and he made a point of turning them both on with his gentle lip tugs and soft mouthings that left both men panting for more.

Chris couldn’t refuse Piers if he wanted to. Not while they were here in the middle of nowhere with nothing but free time and pent up feelings to explore. Piers was doing something very sensual to his bottom lip with his teeth and tongue, and within the confines of his jeans Chris felt arousal stir and harden him in response. Piers was still holding him in place by the shirt. Strong fingers had found purchase in the cloth and the marksman tugged at him almost possessively as he slipped a playful tongue into the space between Chris’ lips. He might have made a small approving sound into Piers’ mouth as he let that tongue inside. The permission had the sniper’s grip on his shirt tightening, pulling him down to his forearms in the grass.

Somewhere in the back of his mind Chris knew they weren’t going to go much further than this here in the field. Not wanting to go full hard-on, he tried to cool his arousal down to a simmer even as Piers’ tempted him with the most sensual mouth moves he’d ever experienced. Those full, pink lips were soft and wet and inviting and Chris found himself delving into them more urgently than before, despite his plan to behave himself.

Chris hadn’t meant to, but his knee shifted up into Piers’s groin somewhat roughly as the older man fought to get a more solid stance above him. Piers’ breath hitched and Chris pulled away slightly.

“Sorry.”

Piers smiled forgivingly up at him. “Happens all the time,” he joked. Chris smirked at his partner’s resilience and leaned in to kiss him again. Piers tugged him down into the grass unexpectedly and rolled over him, their lips never parting as he took a more dominant position atop the older man. Chris didn’t resist the switch up. His hands found their place at Piers’ hips and he held the marksman tight to him as though letting him go would stop whatever this was that they were engaged in. Piers rolled his hips into him gently, feeling the man he didn’t know he wanted so badly pressed up against him for the first time in a manner that wasn’t combat related. It was nice. Hell, when Chris reciprocated every little thing he was doing to him it was downright thrilling.

Chris knew they had to stop. At this pace they were headed for some serious play he wasn’t sure either of them were ready for. Especially not here in a field. As incredibly wild as it was to fool around under the Northern Lights….

Piers lifted off from the kiss suddenly, his face contorted in a mixture of confusion and discomfort. Chris blinked up at him unsure if he’d done something wrong. But Piers was looking with wide eyes at his bandaged arm. It was…. _glowing?_ A dim yellow/green light emitted from the protective fabric.

“The _hell_?” The sniper flexed his fingers in the darkness and what had to be hundreds of fireflies released their hold of him and scattered into the air.

“They must be attracted to the—“ Chris cut himself off, catching the other’s discomfort too late as Piers pushed up off of him. The marksman shook his arm free of the glowing insects and snatched his sweatshirt from the ground before Chris could stop him.

“Piers?”

Piers ignored him and tugged the hoodie down over himself, no longer comfortable with having his damaged arm exposed. “We should head back.”

Chris rose to his feet and reached for him but his partner pulled away.

“Piers, wait.” Chris repeated, trying in vain to catch him by the arm. But Piers didn’t want to be touched. He skillfully dodged the older man’s attempts to salvage the situation and started for the ridge. “You coming?” he called back, hiding the distress in his voice with the playful invite.

Chris watched him head back through the grass, unsettled by the sudden change in his partner’s demeanor. “Don’t shut me out,” he called after him. “Not now.”

Piers didn’t look back, “I don’t want to talk about it.” His voice carried a note of thinly veiled frustration. It had Chris setting his jaw and jogging to catch up to him. “Have there been other incidents like this?” He tried his best not to sound like the medical professionals Nivans was surrounded by as of late. Piers didn’t answer.

After a few years with him Chris knew when the marksman was holding back information. “If your arm has been giving you problems—“

“My arm is fine, Captain.” Piers responded, bitter that their nice evening had turned on its head so suddenly. It didn’t help that Chris had reverted to his on-duty self; an almost paternal concern evident on his brow. It had Piers’ defenses up again.

Chris bit down on his next comment if only to keep from agitating him further. Once Piers shut down, that was it. It was next to impossible to get information out of him. A useful habit should the sniper find himself a prisoner of war. Not so useful now.

The return walk was as silent as it was brisk, with Chris following as Piers led the way in the near darkness. When the sniper stopped and turned suddenly to say something, his partner nearly crashed into him from behind.

“Look. I know I have this _thing_ inside of me, and every time—“ The sniper hesitated and swiped a hand through his bangs in frustration. “Every time something like that happens I’m reminded that part of me is not _me_ any more.” His look of distress was heartbreaking. Chris grabbed his bandaged arm tightly, pushed up his sleeve and began unraveling it before Piers could pull away again. Piers didn’t fight him on it. Instead he watched sadly as his Captain unwrapped more and more of his scarred flesh, exposing the jagged irregularities of his skin to the cool night air.

_“Chris-“_

Chris ignored him and tugged the remainder of the bandage free. He stuffed the fabric roughly into Piers’ jean pocket. “How you can be so blind to your own progress is beyond me.”

“I could learn to deal with it if it weren’t for the constant reminders…”

Chris wasn’t having any of it. “You can stand there and try to convince me that you’re struggling through this, but I’m calling bullshit.”

That shocked him into silence and Chris moved further into his personal space, their faces now close enough for the sniper to get a real good look at the serious furrow of his Captain’s brow. “There isn’t another living person who has survived prolonged infection without losing his morals, his mind and his humanity.” There was a bitter fierceness in Chris’ tone. He was speaking of the infamous betrayer, Albert Wesker. Piers had never fought the madman but he had read enough on the former S.T.A.R.S. Captain to catch the reference. “No one has ever experienced a mutation so advanced and lived to talk about it.” Chris continued, “No one has _ever_ completely reversed a stage three mutation. _You did._ ”

Piers held his partner’s gaze steadily. His jaw set tight as the truth quieted his own frustration. Chris stabbed an index finger into the marksman’s chest, “You’re not struggling with this, Piers. You’ve got this thing beat. It’s _the virus_ that’s running scared; trying every damn thing it can to gain some kind of leverage over you, but you know what?” Piers didn’t resist when Chris grabbed his right arm again and held it up. “It’s not going to win. It couldn’t beat you then and it’s sure as _hell_ not going to beat you now.” The field captain paused to let the words sink in for the ace.

He wanted to get through to the sniper this time. Piers was the strongest, bravest, most selfless man he knew and if Piers didn’t understand just how capable he was then Chris would gladly reinforce it again and again until he believed it.

Piers studied those experienced mahogany eyes, absorbing the resolve and sincerity found there before dropping his gaze to the large warm hand at his wrist. “I….I wouldn’t have made it this far without you…” He flexed the muscles of his damaged forearm beneath that warm hand. A firefly made a move to land on his skin and Chris swatted it away. Piers leaned into him suddenly. He ducked his head beneath the older man’s chin, leaving Chris to wrap him in a strong embrace. Chris’ shirt was damp with sweat from their tussle, as was his own, but Piers didn’t really care. Chris smiled softly and rested his chin lightly in the younger’s damp hair, suppressing the residual side effects of still being turned on. “I wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for _you_.” He reminded him.

Piers was silent in his arms. Memories of that fateful July night surfacing painfully in his mind. The gut-wrenching fear that Chris was going to die by the hand of a hellish monster had driven the sniper to sacrifice his own humanity without a second thought in order to save him. There had been no hope of survival that July night and yet somehow they were both still standing. Together. Alive to fight another day. Gods, they were lucky….

A cool breeze blew through the trees around them. When the marksman spoke again it came out as a whisper over the rustling leaves, “Thank you.”

Chris hugged him tighter. “For what?”

Piers pulled away from the hug. “For not taking any of my shit,” he smirked. “For not going easy on me. For saying what I needed to hear.”

“You're welcome.” The older soldier laughed, following Piers up the trail once more. “I hope you’re not expecting a thank you for the nose bleed.” He remarked, touching the bridge of his sore nose gingerly as they climbed the ridge.

“Naw, that punch was on the house.” Piers joked, pulling his hood up over his head as they reached the edge of the Nivans’ family property. The lights of the big house glowed invitingly in the distance through the deep blue of the night and Piers couldn’t wait to jump into a warm shower. Before he could step out into the clearing however Chris hauled him back a few steps by the fabric of his shirt. “Wha-?”

The Captain turned him around, tugged his hood down, pressed into his body with one hand at his hip and one at the back of his head and planted the hottest kiss on his cold lips. A wave of pleasure rose up through his spine and tickled his nerve endings, making him smile into Chris’ heated lips. Chris ground a still fairly solid hard on against his partner for good measure and nipped at Piers’ bottom lip. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just because we’re staying at your folks’ place.” He smirked, releasing the younger man once more.

Piers’ eyes fluttered open and a grin broke out across his youthful features a second later, “You’re going to get me in trouble, Mr. Redfield.”

Chris laughed at that and gave him an unexpected shove back towards the trail. By the time the sniper recovered his balance Chris was already racing across the yard towards the house like a big kid. Piers couldn’t help but love that he brought that out in him. Oh yeah, and _like hell_ he was going let Chris Redfield beat him in a race! Piers sprinted after him, grinning from ear to ear.

Things were going to be just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a one-shot for now. It's part of a much bigger story we've been planning for a while now, but I don't expect we'll have that long fic up any time soon so you get pieces of the plot like this in the form of stand alone fics.
> 
> I hope you laughed when Chris got a fist in the snoz. I know we did. Poor guy...  
> Please don't forget to leave Kudos if you like this! They keep us writing! Also, come visit our Tumblr blog for all things Nivanfield. Our username is the same: 
> 
> RedfieldandNivans


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